


Human Sport and House Hunting

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:02:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Shoot prompt-The team's new number is a real estate agent, so Shaw and Root go undercover as newlyweds (They are together, but not married) looking to buy their first house. To make sure that they stay around the agent long enough (and to annoy Root) Shaw nitpicks every house. After they save the numbers life, and they decide to head home, Shaw drives them to one of the houses they looked at. Root is shocked to see that Shaw, with help from Finch, bought this house for the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Sport and House Hunting

“Hi, my name is Mindy Lang, and I will be assisting you to find the house of your dreams!” A tall, lanky woman with fiery red hair and piercing hazel eyes greets them. She smiles wide, teeth straight and pearly white. She wears a powder blue jacket and black, woman’s suit pants met by matching heels. Sticking out a freshly manicured hand, Root shakes it warmly, a kind smile on her own face. Mindy crinkles her freckled nose pleasantly, then turns to Shaw.

Shaw’s dressed in black jeans and her signature trench coat, hair pulled into a tight ponytail, lips curled in a sneer. Her hands are stuffed deep into her pockets, and she doesn’t move to shake Mindy’s hand. Mindy looks at her, smile faltering, then returns her hand to her side awkwardly. She looks back to Root and regains her smile.

“I have  _many_  excellent places to show you. When we’re through, you won’t be thinking  _which_  can I have, but  _why_  can’t I have them all! Shall we begin?”

Root looks over to Shaw with affectionate eyes, wavy hair cascading across her shoulders. She smooths down her leather jacket, tugging the edge of it lower over her denim jeans. Shaw gives Root an annoyed glare, and Root smiles. Looking back at the real estate agent, Root says,

“We’re ready.”

* * *

 

At the sound of the words, Mindy turns smartly on her heel and stalks down the block. Root and Shaw follow quickly behind, having to jog slightly to maintain a close proximity.

“The two of you are newlyweds, yes?” Mindy calls back over her shoulder.

“ _Mhmm_ ,” Root replies pleasantly, a skip in her heart as she looks over at Shaw, slipping her hand into Shaw’s. Shaw gives her a dangerous look, eyes warning Root not to enjoy the assignment so much.

“Congratulations,” Mindy says with a smile in her words, although her air stays businesslike. “It says on the paper faxed to me that you’re looking for a house, not an apartment, correct?”

“Anything close to here will do,” Root replies with a smile, but Shaw doesn’t seem to agree.

“We’re not looking for an apartment,” Shaw calls forward to the woman, eyes trained on Root. “And it has to be somewhere that allows dogs.”

“You have a dog?” Mindy asks, voice a preset interest as her eyes scan the buildings, searching for the first home she’s selected.

“You could say that.”

Mindy stops abruptly, and Root skitters to a halt, nearly walking into the agent. She turns to them with bright eyes and a smile to match. “This is house number one!” She steps onto the overgrown pathway that leads to a large, dirt filled front lawn.

“I don’t see any reason why someone would want to kill her,” Root says under her breath, eyes straight ahead.

“You mean other than her overly enthusiastic personality?” Shaw quips back, and Root shoots her a narrow-eyed look.

Coming forward, they stop before an old wooden door with a long, frosted window in its center, and weeds curling up the frame. Looking up, Shaw sees the staggering hight of the townhouse- three tiers of a rundown cake. Mindy fumbles with a rustic lock on the door, then pushes it open with a wild screech.

“As you can  _see_ ,” Mindy says with a smug hint to her voice, “this is by far the most space you’ll  _ever_  receive in the heart of Manhattan.”

Stepping in, Shaw and Root are bathed in a mismatched stew of lights. The living room gives off yellow waves, while the narrow hallway nearly blinds them with new, florescent bulbs. Looking to her left, Shaw takes in the old, floral wallpaper, and skims her fingers along the surface as they walk to the first opening.

Straight ahead are a set of thin; unstable-at-best stairs lined with burgundy carpet, a white metal railing trailing all the way up to the second floor. At her right, two doorways open up with a long post separating the space. Root, letting go of Shaw’s hand, follows Mindy into the right half, listening with strained enthusiasm as Mindy rattles off wonderful details of the older row-home. Shaw on the other hand, takes to the left, inspecting the small dining room and kitchen with distaste.

“I’m not liking this one, Harold,” Shaw tells him, peeking into one of the cabinets to pass the time.

“You did not have to go on the assignment,” Harold reminds her over the earwig, and a light smirk comes to her face.

“And let John play house instead?” She asks, standing back up and sticking her hands back into her pockets.

“How bad could it  _possibly_  be?” Harold asks her, a slight annoyance coming to his voice. “They’re only houses.”

“With a psycho and a high school cheerleader,” Shaw mutters. She hears footsteps approaching from behind and turns.

Mindy walks around the dividing pillar, escorting Root to the dining room. Shaw leans against the door frame, looking Root up and down. When Mindy turns away, Root widens her eyes at Shaw, raising her eyebrows in exaggerated boredom.

“As you can see, the light fixtures are remarkably-”

“Can I ask you something?” Mindy stops mid-sentence, hand motions freezing and body tensing at Shaw’s voice. Not expecting any input from the seemingly angrier of the two, Mindy drops her hands to her sides, turning to face Shaw expectantly. Shaw puts on a tired expression, not moving from her position.

“Uh.. Yes?”

“How many bedrooms are in here.”

Mindy smiles once more. “There are two. One on the second floor and-”

“That’s  _it_?” Shaw asks with a snort, and the woman’s smile drops.

“What were you hoping for?” She asks. Shaw tilts her head back and forth, making it seem like she’s pondering the question.

“Three maybe?” Shaw throws the number out with ease, yet it seems to hit Mindy with a bone-crushing force, as her eyes open painfully. “The dog’ll need a room,” Shaw acknowledges, and Root’s eyes light up humorously. “Or maybe four?” Mindy coughs, choking on the words like they are poison. “Because between my cousin, John, and her uncle, Harold- I don’t know how they’d feel about sharing a room.”

“The.. They don’t have to be over at the same  _time_ ,” Mindy tries, but Shaw shakes her head.

“How are the neighbors?” Shaw asks on a different note entirely. Mindy gives her a quizzical stare. “We share the walls, don’t we?” Shaw explains in a dumbed down voice, and Mindy narrows her eyes.

“I’m not sure,” she answers shortly, and Shaw can feel the anger starting to radiate from the agent.

“Is the plumbing up to date?”

“Yes, it was all fixed last year.”

“So there was a  _problem_  before?” Shaw presses, and Mindy’s eyes blaze with fire. Shaw, catching the look, gives her an amused smirk. Turning, she walks to the back of the kitchen, near a thin door leading to a small patio and few feet of grass, all fenced in back-to-back with another set of row-homes. “Are dogs allowed here?”

Mindy sighs happily, confident in this question. “Yes, all animals are allowed in the building.”

“How about  _outside_  the building.” Mindy’s face drops once more to a state of confusion.

“I- I don’t understand…”

“There’s no  _yard_  for a dog,” Shaw says, turning back around to face her. Looking over Mindy’s shoulder, Shaw sees Root watching at her, questioning in her eyes and arms crossed. From before her, Mindy is steaming, hands in fists at her sides. Taking a steadying breath, she pushes an unfriendly smile to her face, speaking between clenched teeth.

“So… four bedrooms, new but not  _too_  new plumbing, a yard, no neighbors-”

“And storage space.” Shaw concludes, and she can almost see the wires of sanity snapping in Mindy’s mind.

“… And  _storage_  space.” Turning on her heel, she stalks forward, stopping at Root. “You have a car? Follow me in it; we’ll drive to the next home.”

With that, she heads into the hallway. “I sell real estate, not  _miracles_ ,” Mindy adds in a low grumble under her breath, and the door slams shut. Everything remains silent a few seconds, then the entire house seems to sigh, letting go of a tense breath.

“Do you think all those questions were  _really_  necessary?” Root asks, a doting smile on her face as she watches Shaw from the back door. Shaw walks up to meet her, and together, they head for the exit.

“Just covering all the bases,” Shaw answers her coolly, and Root lets out a small laugh.

“Well, you don’t need to be so  _rude_ ,” Root tells her as they come to the sidewalk, brisk spring air hitting them as they head to Root’s car.

“Rude?” Shaw asks rhetorically, a smirk on her face. “I call it constructive criticism.” With the shake of her head, Root rolls her eyes, stepping in the driver’s side.

______\ If Your Number’s Up /_______

The sun begins to sink from its peak in the sky as they come to the fourth house of the day. It had been endless hours of houses across Manhattan and Brooklyn, all being picked apart by Shaw’s onslaught of questions. Anything from location to insulation, pipes to paint job- Shaw took in each detail. Busy as she was with her critical evaluations, she made sure to keep a constant eye on Root, trying to read her expression with everything they’ve seen. In house two, Shaw took note of the way her smile grew subconsciously at the large master bathroom, and how her eyes kept peeking back at the kitchen’s island in the third.

They’d just crossed the bridge into Queens, driving a few short minutes on this side of the bridge before coming to a small town, then stopping completely. Shaw looks out the passenger window as Root puts the car in park. The house is moderately sized, set back from the road on a nice plot of green grass. The walls are white paneled, trailing up two stories to a deep brown roof. On the right, there is a driveway, then grass and a neighboring house.  _So far so good,_  Shaw thinks to herself, stepping out of the car. She begins forward, realizes Root isn’t with her, and turns.

She’s leaning her elbows atop the car roof, sun in her hair and glow in her eyes. Seeing Shaw look at her, a small smile comes to her face. Shaw walks over, resting her own arms on the sleek black surface, eyes trained on Root evenly. A slight wind gusts by, taking Root’s hair and dancing with it as it passes, and Shaw watches, entranced.  _God, she’s beautiful_ , Shaw thinks, then shoves the thought away, feeling the words start to form on her lips. She bites her bottom lip instantly, trying to focus.

“What’s up?” Shaw asks, gesturing with her hands to Root’s still position. She sees Root’s eyes on her and feels a hiccup in her heart. She scolds herself for the feeling at once, and her ears redden angrily.

“Ready to fall asleep,” Root admits, flashing a toothy smile. “Remind me never to go house hunting with you again,” she jokes, and Shaw gives her a lopsided half smile.

“Well, I’ll drive to the next one and you can sleep,” Shaw replies, giving her a small wink. Root feels a tingle run down her spine at the sight. Tapping the roof with her hand, Shaw turns away. “C'mon.”

Root slips around the car, coming to meet Mindy and Shaw at the sidewalk.

“I hope this one will suit your  _needs_ ,” Mindy says near bitter, eyes spiteful as they bore holes into Shaw’s head. Shaw watches her unfazed, and Mindy turns away, pressing a cheery smile back to her face. Shaw takes a quick scan of the area, seeing nothing but an empty block and a black SUV parked before a house across the street.

Shaw and Root follow Mindy up the redbrick stairs, coming to a door that matches the roofing shingles. The lock turns easily, and Mindy pushes open the door for the two of them to step through. They are met right away by an open layout, left hand side revealing a living room melting right to the dining room, and a small half wall concealing the kitchen area in the center. On the other side is a pleasantly open space flooded with natural light as it pours in from the front window. That space is furnished with two armchairs and a small coffee table set between them, all positioned on soft beige carpet. Shaw’s eyes trail back across, seeing the carpet give way to hard wood floor, and she sees a leather couch and television set in the living room area. This too, has light from the windows spilling in, giving the cream walls a warm glow.

“Right this way,” Mindy says, taking the lead. Her heels click against the wood floors as she heads straight towards the dining room. Root and Shaw head into the unknown space more cautiously, taking in the area. Shaw turns her face up to Root, watching her inspect the place. Root’s eyes linger at the carpeted lounge space, an interest in her eyes, but she looks away, and a nearly microscopic half smile pulls at the corner of her mouth upon seeing the room before her.

Still on hard wood floors, a grand, mahogany table curls up from the ground like an aged tree, and correlating chairs are set on all sides, six in total. A simple chandelier hangs from just above, small crystals throwing brilliant stripes across the room.

“The house comes completely furnished,” Mindy explains to them, stepping to the side. “The upstairs was recently redone- for the original owner’s sake  _only_ ,” she adds, not wanting to give Shaw any reason to complain. “In the kitchen you have all stainless steel appliances, and granite countertops.”

Shaw’s eyes travel over to the kitchen, the space separated only by an island, a few stools placed around it. Root walks forward into the room, looking around.  _Have to play the part_ , Shaw thinks to herself, all the while watching Root’s eyes.

Root trails her hand across the granite, eyes pulling apart every cabinet and drawer, taking in every detail with a glance. But just as before, she pulls her eyes away from the scene, forcing them back into a work-related focus, clearing her thoughts of all things but the mission. She looks up at Shaw, sees her watching, and shoots Shaw a sparkling smile, walking over to Shaw and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Shaw’s eyes narrow slightly as Root leans her chin atop her head, but she doesn’t protest. Mindy, looking back at her clients, sees their state and smiles a genuine grin.

“Liking it so far?” She asks, and Shaw lets out a quick, devious smirk.  _That’s a dangerous question._

“How’s the neighborhood?” Shaw asks, piquing Mindy’s interest. “Is it a bad place?” Root gives a humored half-smile at the question.  _As if safety is a factor with us_ , she thinks, then stops, muscles tensing slightly. _But it doesn’t matter,_  she tells herself more seriously, _because we aren’t actually getting a house._  Shaw, feeling Root tense up beside her, casts her eyes skyward, trying in vain to see Root’s face.

“No, it’s a great part of the city,” Mindy tells them casually, little thought going into the simple question. “Perfect environment for kids.”

Shaw’s eyes bulge at the statement, and she feels an iron clamp close over the butterflies in her stomach, shutting the feeling down entirely. Coughing slightly, Shaw pulls away from Root. Turning, she feels a flare of annoyance to see the delighted look on Root’s face, more so that it turns smug at seeing Shaw’s flustered eyes. Shaw, rolling her eyes, turns away, folding her arms angrily.

“How does the upstairs look,” she asks with little politeness.

“Why don’t you come up and see for yourself,” Mindy responds, flashing one last smile before she becomes a streak of red, blue, and black around the corner. Shaw picks up behind her briskly, avoiding Root’s gaze, but feeling its amused intensity on her neck.

Shaw comes through a small doorway on the back end of the kitchen, soft carpet under her boots as she enters the lounge room through the back. Right at the doorway’s side is a white painted spiral staircase, it’s end disappearing into the floor above. Shaw takes to the stairs, hairs on the back of her neck standing as she feels Root just behind.

The staircase is at the far end of a wrap around hallway, matching white railing separating the path from open space.

“On the far side you have two bedrooms and a bath,” Mindy tells them, gesturing to the three wooden doors across from them. “Over here,” she turns, a confident wind filling her lungs as she puts her hand on the doorknob, “is the master bedroom.” Without further ado, she turns the knob, pushing it open and letting it glide to a stop.

The first thing they notice is sunlight trickling in through a long panel of windows stretching across the roof. Something Shaw hadn’t seen from outside. Directly in line with part of the light’s reach is the foot of a large bed, fashioned in a red comforter and pillows. There is a wooden nightstand on either side, and a dresser tucked to the left wall. Directly across from the bed is an entertainment center, large TV sitting in the furniture’s cubbyhole. Beside it is an open door, leading to a sterile-white en suite. There is a thin mirror on the wall adjacent to the hallway, and an older fashioned radio taking up a portion of the other space.

Shaw looks around with little interest in her eyes, all the while gears spin and twist in her head.

“Well, don’t just  _stand_  there!” Mindy fumes, seeing as how both Root and Shaw stay like statues in the door frame. Mindy puts a hand on each of their backs, giving them a hearty shove forward. Shaw turns on her, instinct ready to bear its fangs, but Root brings a hand to her upper arm, and she stops.

“ _Sam_ …” Root starts in a sweet but warning tone. Shaw turns her back to Mindy, shrugging Root off in the process. Root walks under the windows, face upturned as the sun spills across her features. Shaw watches her, sees the outline of light throw an angelic quality across Root’s being, and blinks a few times to relieve the stare. “Bet you can see the stars at night,” Root comments, voice edged with distance, as if she’s seeing the stars form before her.

“Yeah, and bird shit in the morning,” Shaw adds, earning herself a slant-eyed glare from Root. The playful anger doesn’t last long, and she returns her gaze skyward.

“I’ll leave the two of you here to talk,” Mindy says, excusing herself from the room. “Be down in say, five minutes? I have one last listing to show you in Manhattan.”

Shaw and Root both remain stationary, waiting for her footsteps to trail away down the stairs; all at once their tense coils unwind.

“Thinking of relocating?” Root asks, still watching the sky. Shaw looks at her with a slight question in her eyes.

“No. Why?”

Root shrugs her shoulders, lips fighting off a coy smile. “You didn’t have anything to say about  _this_  one.”

“I got tired of playing the ‘hard ass’ game,” Shaw replies coolly, leaning against the doorframe. “I was only doing that to buy time.” Root looks over at her, gaze calling Shaw’s bluff. Shaw feels a heated sneer threatening to curl onto her lips, and decides to change the subject. “Look who finally stopped cloud watching.”

“The only view better than that one is this one,” Root counters smoothly, eyes looking Shaw up and down with suggestive interest. Shaw swallows, ears reddening angrily.

“What do you think of the number,” Shaw spits out, a little too defensive. Root’s nose crinkles, knowing she’s gotten into Shaw’s mind.

“She’s got skills,” Root informs her, walking out of the window’s light and standing before Shaw, voice becoming more secretive with the words. “Anyone who deals with  _you_  all day has to be.”

Shaw lets out a scoff at the statement, eyes trailing away from Root and to the bathroom, a playfully annoyed smirk lifting the corners of her lips. “No need to compliment yourself.” Root’s smile widens, and her eyes light up, their previous discussion resurfacing in her mind.

“ _I_  think you like this place.”

“Think all you want, Root.” As soon as Shaw says it, she gives an internal wince, knowing Root will do just that.

“I could see you living a domesticated life,” Root teases, her words joking and light as she flips her hair back over her shoulder. “Settling down with a couple of  _kids_.”

Shaw laughs at the statement, eyes coming back to Root’s in amusement. “The last thing this world needs is little hackers and hit men running around.” Root’s grin widens at that, exposing white teeth and a melodic laugh.

“You’d be quite the soccer mom.”

Shaw shakes her head disbelievingly, small smile on her face. Then, acknowledging Root’s silence, stops shaking her head to look back at her, seeing Root’s eyes glued to Shaw’s face, thoughts swirling deeply behind them.  _She’s not serious,_  Shaw thinks to herself, an uncharacteristic wave of nausea and panic spiking in her stomach, and the smile drops from her face instantly.

“No.”

Root raises her eyebrows slightly, bringing her shoulders forward and tilting her head to the side, eyes and smug smile screaming that they know more than she’s letting on, let alone willing to tell. Silently, she slips past Shaw and towards the staircase, leaving Shaw to run her tongue along the inside of her cheek, stupefied on the inside; flustered on the outside. _I can’t stand that look_ , Shaw thinks to herself, looking at nothing in particular, just replaying that last countenance of Root’s over in her head. It always leaves her wondering what’s going on in Root’s head, what secret she’s keeping, what lines she’s read between to know what she does. Still unknowing, Shaw presses her lips together in annoyance, heading back to the stairs with a nagging irritation.

_______\ We’ll Find You /_______

Shaw sits in the driver’s seat, following Mindy’s hot pink Fiat back over the bridge, with Root laying out in the back seat. With her head resting on the back, passenger door window, she gazes through the back windshield yet again.

“The SUV’s definitely trailing us,” she says, sitting up slightly to get a better view. “I’m gonna call Harold, see if he can’t run a plate.”

“I thought you were supposed to be  _sleeping_ ,” Shaw tells her, looking through the rearview mirror at the stunning brunette. Root turns her head, meeting Shaw’s hard eyes in the mirror with her own, happier set.

“There’s no rest for the wicked, Sameen,” Root tells her with a sigh. “And as long as they don’t rest, we don’t either.” Shaw rolls her eyes, directing her gaze back to the road as Root dials the number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Harry,” Root greets, warm glow in her eyes at hearing his voice. “Do you think you could run a plate for me?”

“I suppose I can try,” he replies, coming to his computer. “What is it?”

“New York plate, BK… 3089.” From Harold’s end, there is much typing, then silence.

“I can tell you it is traveling on Route Twenty-five as we speak,” he says in a voice set to autopilot, mind still scanning through his computer. “Although, I can assume you already know that.”

“You’re nothing if not clever,” Root quips back, smiling at the exasperation she’s sure she’s earned from him.

“The owner of the plates is a man named Mike Gilroy. He was tried on murder charges, but all were dropped after a hefty amount of money was deposited in the family of the victim’s bank account.”

“You can buy anyone these days,” Root says almost ruefully.

“Indeed. From the looks of the files, Mr. Gilroy had no prior association with the victim.”

“So, like a hit man,” Root concludes, nodding her head with comprehension. “Thanks, Harold.” Hanging up, she sits forward, resting her elbows on the center console and her chin on her hands.

“Someone’s hired the people in the black SUV to kill Mindy Lang?” Shaw guesses with the information she picked up on Root’s end. Root gives her a light smile, looking up at her from her stooped perch.

“Ding, ding,” she says as Shaw pulls the car to a stop. Putting it in park, the two women watch the SUV drive past, parking at the end of the block before them. For the first time, one of its doors open.

“Looks like we’re going to miss that last open house,” Shaw says with mock wistfulness and a hint of sarcasm lacing her words. “And to  _think_ , I was  _actually_  looking  _forward_  to this one.”

“You  _do_  realize we aren’t actually newlyweds searching for a house, right, Sweetie?” Root asks, and Shaw narrows her eyes at Root through the mirror. Across the street, two more men escape the vehicle, each pulling a black ski mask over his face. Shaw can make out the glint of a gun in the nearest man’s hand, and pulls her own weapon out from its hiding place.

Root too, uncovers her handguns, and they each step out of the car without another word. Mindy stands on the sidewalk, tapping her foot impatiently as she watches the house in front of her, oblivious to the three approaching men. Hearing heels on cement, Mindy turns to face the two women, a look of relief coming to her face.

“I thought the two of you were  _never_  going to leave that car,” she exclaims, pulling her jacket up tighter around her neck. As the sun dips down, touching the tips of the houses now, the day draws to a frosty close.

“Sam and I were just discussing one of the houses you showed us,” Root says, her words drowning in the sounds of a teacher’s pet. Mindy smiles proudly, standing up straighter and puffing out her chest with an air of importance.

“Don’t talk  _too_  much,” Mindy says with warning in her voice, and an underlying tone of cockiness just the same. “ _This_  house is a real killer.”

Just then, the first round goes off. The aim is far worse than terrible, missing Mindy completely, but nearly nicking Root’s ear, and she brings her hand up to it instantly, a deafening ring blaring into her left ear. Mindy’s mouth drops open wide, too shocked to let out a scream, and she stands with frozen mortification as the three men approach, weapons raised.

Shaw fires a warning shot their way, being sure to graze the man that nearly hit Root, and watches with cold satisfaction in her eyes as his hand drops to his leg, letting off an agonized shriek.

Root, one hand still cupped to her ringing ear, clicks the safety from her gun. At the same time, Shaw pushes Mindy forward. Like a spell being broken, she animates, becoming a rush of lightning as she speeds into the safety of the house. Root and Shaw stay back, both shoulder to shoulder while they walk backwards, guns poised and ready to fire. The man Shaw grazed holds back, uncertainty evident in his wide, brown eyes. The other men descend, hands unsteady as they hold their guns.

The man furthest to the right begins to pull back on his trigger, but he hesitates, enough for Root to get two good shots in. He falls to the ground, wailing like a siren. The first man, unsure before, has a definite fear in his eyes, and he hobbles quickly back to the SUV, clamoring into the driver’s side and revving the engine. A fire burns in the last man’s eyes as he watches the two women, hand shaking feverishly.

“Who sent you,” Shaw demands, and the guy laughs cruelly.

“Nobody  _you_  gon’ know ‘bout,” he spits out in a strictly southern accent.

“Mike, is it?” Root asks, eyes burning dangerously into his. “Mike  _Gilroy_?” His eyes flash nervously. “Listen, Mike, I want to cut you a deal.” He laughs bitterly, cruel hatred in his eyes.

“Ain’t a  _thing_  you can do for me,  _ma'am_.”

“You tell me who sent you on this hit, and who sent you on the last one. In turn, my wife here won’t  _shoot_  you in the knees.” Shaw elbows Root roughly, eyes lit in anger at the term.  _Wife. Did she not just point out we weren’t married?_  Shaw rages within herself, jaw tightening along with her hand around the gun. Mike must recognize this sudden shift of urgent anger in Shaw’s form, and he tremors slightly.

“I don’ know,” he says, voice unsteady. “I got a message on my phone. Ten thousand for t’ first one, twenty for t’ lady.”

Root casts a wary eye over to Shaw, who returns it evenly. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Root asks.

“If what you’re thinking involves an evil AI, then yeah.”

“A…  _what_?” Gilroy asks, and the women reinstate their attention to him.

“You can go,” Root tells him, gun still trained at his chest menacingly. “And don’t come back for her- or anyone- or we won’t be able to let you off the hook next time.” Her voice is sweet like cherries but dangerous as poison; Mike takes one last glance at the two women before dashing away, jumping into the passenger side of the SUV. Not a second after the door closes does it speed away, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

Root and Shaw stow away their weapons, Root pushing a loose strand of hair back from her eyes, accomplished grin on her face.

“You should uh, go in there and make sure she’s okay,” Shaw mutters, eyes looking to the house, where two frightful eyes peek out of the window. “I’ll call John, tell him to come get this guy.” Root nods, and slips away without a sound. As the door opens, Shaw can hear rushed footsteps from within coming to greet Root.

“I didn’t know you were  _cops_!” Mindy’s fretful voice slices open the air. “I  _have_  to call my husband! This is  _crazy_ \- what do you think they  _wanted_? Was it…” Her voice trails off with the closing of the door, and Shaw counts to ten before stepping forward from the pavement. She dials her phone, and whilst waiting for the pickup, kicks the man’s gun away from his reach, leaning on Mindy’s car hood to watch him.

“Ms. Shaw, is everything alright?” Harold asks, slight unease in his voice, knowing how seldom she calls for anything.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” she responds impatiently, then takes a deep breath, eyes not lingering in any place for more than a few seconds. “Hey, Harold?”

“Yes?”

“How’s the Vigilantes Working for an Artificial Intelligence Fund looking?”

__________\ Human Sport and House Hunting /__________

By the time John and Lionel arrived to the scene, and Mindy calmed enough to head home for the night, the sun was far gone from the sky. The night is crisp and clear, the stars spread out like crystal dropped to the floor, shattering into the most elaborate of patterns across an ebony cloth. From her stance beside Shaw, Root rolls her neck, trying to will the weariness from her muscles. Shaw’s hand is thrown casually around Root’s waist, and they both lean back against the cool surface of the quaint Manhattan house, looking out at the street before them. Fusco shoves the shot man into the back of the cop car less than gracefully, then slams the door shut.

Shaw had been stalling best she could, standing around with seemingly nothing on her mind, all the while her nerves danced on the inside, each second quickening the drum of her heart, and like the beat to music, it quickened and quickened until her entire body seemed to hum. However, she kept herself collected on the outside, standing and waiting.

At her side, Root leans her head back on the brick wall, rotating her gaze between the sky, Shaw, and John. Around and around she continued, forcing her eyes open. She’d wanted to leave earlier, go home and sleep for a while- while there was a chance- but after Shaw put her arm around her, Root didn’t want to move. Choosing comfort over sleep, she’d stood with Shaw outside over half an hour, silently wondering why Shaw hadn’t yet left.

“You comin’, Hot Shot?” Fusco calls impatiently to John as he stands with the car door open, hand already on the wheel. John turns back to him and begins a slow gate to the passenger side. “ _C'mon_ ,” Lionel fumes, “I’ll be  _eighty_  by the time we get to the station.”

“Let me drive then,” John replies with a small, half smile tugging at his lip.

“Yeah,  _right_ ,” Lionel replies, filing into the seat. “Eighty’s better than  _dead_.”

Suddenly, Shaw’s phone vibrates in her pocket, sending a nerve shattering jolt into her already electrified system. With her free hand, she slips it out, checking the notification briefly.

Harold: Okay.

With a sigh tinted with anticipation, Shaw slips it back into her pocket, then removes her arm from Root’s side, stretching out her back like a cat after its nap.

“You ready to get out of here?” Shaw asks, and a thrill shoots its way into Root’s heart. She can only half suppress a smile as they head out.

“Shouldn’t I drive, considering it’s my car, and you can’t just take it home with you?” Root asks, a light humor in her eyes as she watches Shaw climb into the driver’s seat.

“Let’s just go for a quick ride, first.” Intrigued by this mysterious halo surrounding Shaw’s head, Root steps in without a further question. Closing the door, Shaw pulls the car into drive, and they head out down the road.

Root looks out the passenger window, feeling her head start to nod, and her blinking getting longer and longer, until her eyes close entirely. In what seems like a moment, she finds the car stopped, and opens her eyes.

 _Where are we?_  She wonders, sitting up in the seat and peering through the front windshield. In the dark, she can see the outline of grass leading to a house whose white exterior is tinted a sleepy blue with the light of the moon.  _Am I dreaming?_  She asks herself, becoming far more alert now.  _Why are we at that house?_

“Whadaya think?” Shaw’s voice penetrates Root’s thoughts, and suddenly it all becomes very real to her. Her eyes come to saucers as she looks over to Shaw with her mouth slightly ajar.

“What- what do you mean?”

Shaw, keeping her eyes trained on Root, rummages through her front pocket. After a moment, she extends her hand before Root, dangling a small, silver key.

“Took this from Mindy when I was shoving her towards the house,” Shaw explains levelly, eyes giving away nothing in the darkness of the car. “Didn’t think she’d need it after today anyway.”

“You mean…” Root trails off, unsure if she even knows how to voice the words.

“It’s ours if you want it,” Shaw tells her, the quickest flicker of merriment crossing her dark eyes. Root’s lips turn up in a toothy grin, eyes disbelieving but delighted at the same time. _Ours_. The word leaves a warm pleasure in Root’s stomach, and she can’t seem to speak a word. So she just nods. “Then, let’s go.”

Shaw steps from the car, Root quickly following, and she unlocks the door. At the sound of the latch clicking, Root feels a wave of excitement rush over her, making her light headed with joy; drunk with delight. To steady herself, she grabs hold of Shaw’s arm, and sees out of the corner of her eye the nearly microscopic smile that comes to Shaw’s face with the touch.

They step through the door, and everything feels different. The foreign space from before feels familiar now. Then, fatigue infiltrates Root’s body once more, this time not leaving until it wins the war, and she yawns. Making their way upstairs, they slip off their shoes, then open the bedroom door. Just like outside, the entire room is bathed in a sleepy blue tint, the moon’s light filtering in overhead.

Root drifts over to the bed, laying on it with her head opposite the headrest, and her hair spills over the foot of the bed. Shaw watches her, glad the darkness gives her time to conceal her smile, and lays down beside Root. She looks at Root’s eyes, and sees the stars within them, a whole little galaxy for Shaw to get lost in.

Shaw feels Root’s hand snake into hers, and feels a warm current shoot from her fingers all the way up her arm, coming to fill her entire body with warmth. She watches as Root’s eyelids start to fall down, hiding away Shaw’s newfound galaxy for another day.

“Thank you.” The words are whispered out just before Root drifts off, finally finding her voice. Shaw shifts onto her side, own eyes feeling the weight of the day pulling them down. She takes one last look at Root before finally giving in.

_Welcome home._


End file.
